


In The Closet

by ladyoneill



Series: Lady O's Teen Wolf Bingo Stories [75]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bisexuality, Closets, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:09:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After fighting hunters for nearly twelve hours, Derek and Stiles are trapped in a closet about to die...so, of course, Stiles comes out.  So does Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The Closet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Trope Bingo prompt: Against All Odds; this was not the fic that was supposed to be but that one has been languishing on my computer for months. My last prompt!

"We're going to die."

Stiles shoots Derek an annoyed look and hefts his bat. After nearly twelve hours of near-continuous fighting and running for their lives, it feels like it weighs a ton, but, unlike mister grumpy pants werewolf, he's not ready to give up.

"Stiles..." Derek sighs and then grunts as the metal door they're leaning against, feet propped on the opposite wall of the closet (why it has a metal door, Stiles has no clue, but at least it's kept the half dozen hunters out for their blood from breaking it down) bangs into his back. A gun barrel fits through the tiny gap, but before a bullet can be fired, Derek and Stiles shove back and the barrel is crushed. Unfortunately, that means the hunters might have a tiny bit of something to use as a lever.

"Dammit," Stiles mutters.

"We're trapped in a closet. The rest of the Pack is scattered all over the county, if they're even alive..."

"Shut it, glass half empty wolf."

"There's nary a drop in the damn glass, Stiles!"

"Nary?" He can't help it; he's a tiny bit amused, though Derek's eyebrows look like they want to punch him in the nose.

The hunters continue to shove and bang on the door and then someone mentions dynamite and heavy booted footsteps run off.

Great.

"Look, I just can't give up. We'll get out of here. Someone will rescue us. My dad's looking for us. We're not dying in a fucking closet, Derek." A smirk crosses his lips. "Not until I have a chance to come out of it first, at least."

Derek's eyebrows go up in...well, Stiles can't decipher them, but the tips of his ears go red, too, as he rubs his temples. "...Really?"

Stiles gapes. "You're kidding."

"I didn't...um...well, there's Lydia."

"Who is my goddess, true, and I'd go out with her in a heartbeat, but we're better friends and we both know it."

"You dated Malia." Derek looks truly confused.

"Derek, there's this state of being called bisexuality."

Now he scowls again. "I know that, Stiles. I just always thought...well, you liked girls exclusively."

"Nope, that's you." Now Stiles is the one to wince as the door is shoved forward again, hitting right on a large bruise from being thrown onto the hood of a car earlier. As he reaches back to rub it and braces his feet harder, he catches a weird look on Derek's face. "What's with the look?"

"I don't."

"What?" Whatever train of thought he was on is gone as the hunters are now shooting at the metal door.

Thank fuck it's a metal door. He does not want to be perforated. Penetrated, maybe.

Flushing, Derek looks away from him. "I actually prefer guys."

What?

"When did that happen?" Stiles demands, no filter on his mouth, that's for sure.

Another annoyed scowl comes his way, but then fear fills Derek's eyes. "They're back with the dynamite. Stiles, I can't protect..."

"Fuck that shit. We protect each other." Dropping his bat, he reaches out and grabs one of Derek's hands. "We are not dying in this closet before we _both_ have a chance to come out of it."

"...You're ridiculous," Derek snorts, but with a tiny hint of amusement.

"Your eyebrows are ridiculous," Stiles retorts and their hands tighten around each others. "Shit, Derek, I..." All humor is gone in an instant as he realizes they're about to die.

"We're getting out of here." Breaking the grip of Stiles' hand, Derek wraps his arm around him, pulling his head and torso in front of him. 

Outside the closet a lighter flicks on and Stiles closes his eyes. Derek's grip tightens. They both hold their breath.

Gunshots ring out and then the Sheriff's voice sounds, just outside the door.

Relieved nearly to the point of tears, Stiles pulls away from Derek, but their hands find each others again and they just look at each other.

"Shall we come out of the closet?"

"Lookie there, you made a joke."

"Idiot," Derek retorts affectionately, and pulls them both to their feet.

End


End file.
